闲来从书柜里翻出一本笔记本,打开,一张枫叶不经意飘落手中,仔细一看,那火红的颜色似乎还未褪去,岁月的脉络依然清晰。正要放回书中,旁边一首小诗吸引了我:“秋天的泪水染红了你的衣装,我看啊看啊,滚烫的泪水将秋霜溶解了……”不知道是什么时候珍藏的记忆,也不知道在早被遗忘的往事中还存留着一片枫叶,一首小诗。读着读着,朦胧中想起那段火红的日子,泪水却又不知不觉地弥漫开来。我常常将悲伤、愤怒埋积在 I used to read a notebook from the bookcase and open it. A Maple Leaf inadvertently fell into her hands and took a closer look. The color of the redness seemed to have not faded yet. The veins of the years remained clear. Just about to put it back into the book, a poem next to me attracted me: “The tears in the autumn have dyed your clothes, I see it, see it, the hot tears melted the autumn cream...” I don’t know when it’s treasured Memories do not know that there is a maple leaf and a small poem in the past that has been forgotten. As I read and read, I remembered the hot day and the tears began to perceive. I often bury sadness and anger in